


allied by necessity

by seraf



Series: backstage passes! [2]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Bullying, Foreshadowing, Friendship, Gay Chabashira Tenko, Gen, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, MLM WLW solidarity, Nonbinary Character, Pre-Game Chabashira Tenko, Pre-Game Personalities (New Dangan Ronpa V3), Pre-Game Shinguji Korekiyo, Trans Character, trans tenko
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 16:58:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19299928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seraf/pseuds/seraf
Summary: tenko chabashira and korekiyo shinguji are sitting on the roof together.this isn’t really that uncommon. neither of them particularly like each other, and were circumstances different, they might not have ever been friends. but their two schools are part of a four-school system where all the kids know each other, and when you’re the two kids most often picked to jeer faggot at, people just kind of begin to assume you know each other, so why not associate anyway, if everyone’s going to think you’re friends?might as well have an ally, even if it wouldn’t ever be your first choice.





	allied by necessity

tenko chabashira and korekiyo shinguji are sitting on the roof together.

 

this isn’t really that _uncommon._ neither of them particularly like each other, and were circumstances different, they might not have ever been friends. but their two schools are part of a four-school system where all the kids know each other, and when you’re the two kids most often picked to jeer _faggot_ at, people just kind of begin to assume you know each other, so why _not_ associate anyway, if everyone’s going to think you’re friends? might as well have an ally, even if it wouldn’t ever be your first choice.

 

( neither of them are even gay men, but that sort of subtlety often goes over the heads of high-schoolers looking for an easy sort of cruelty. )

 

tenko’s hair comes undone from her tight bun at the back of her head, shirking off the jacket that comes with her accursed boy’s uniform, and kiyo is braiding it out behind her. she doesn’t like him, but she can tolerate him, and he’s much better at things like this than she is.

 

‘ v3 applications closed, ‘ she tells him, trying to sound casual. his movements with the brush pause, ever so briefly.

 

‘ did you sign up? ‘ he asks, hand still hovering above her hair.

 

‘ mm, ‘ she says in confirmation, her hands anxiously squeezing her knees. ‘ as - as tenko chabashira. ‘ he was one of the few people who knew that name, how much it meant to her. if she got her way, the whole _world_ would know that name, and only that name.

 

kiyo’s hands pause in her hair. she can’t see his expression, since he’s behind her - then again, she wouldn’t be able to see that much of it anyway, given the surgical mask he’s always wearing. slowly, his hands pick up their work again. ‘ i’m proud of you, ‘ he says, quietly, and she’s surprised to find a bubble of warmth rising in her chest at his acknowledgement.

 

friends by necessity, maybe, but . . . maybe they kinda _were_ friends, after all.

 

‘ thanks, kiyo, ‘ she says, voice just as quiet. sometimes she can be a little too loud, but they both get pretty quiet up here - as though raising their voices will break the shelter of it, as though it might make someone find them. up here is where tenko is free to write _tenko chabashira_ in cutesy girl’s handwriting on the radiator in sharpie and braid her hair and try on cheap, brightly patterned skirts from the drugstore a block away from the school. up here is where kiyo sometimes feels safe to take off his mask for a little bit - she doesn’t often get sick, after all, so it’s not as though he’ll catch something from her - or talk shit about momota or paint his nails.

 

it’s a tiny rebellion. a safe one.

 

‘ i did too, ‘ he says, suddenly, abruptly, dropping her hair to rest between her shoulderblades and shifting around so they can see each other, both of them dangling their legs over the rooftop edge. ‘ sign up, i mean. ‘ his yellow eyes are low and troubled, and refuse to meet hers, and she feels something low and cold turn over in her throat.

 

‘ you did? ‘ she finds herself asking, and she realizes the feeling in her stomach is dread.

 

‘ mm, ‘ he says, seemingly not wanting to go into it any more than that.

 

‘ why? ‘ she asks, though a part of her feels like she already knows the reason.

 

he shrugs, listlessly, and plucks at one of the strings keeping his mask over his features. like a demonstration. like that’s a reason. ‘ i’m dying anyway, tenko. if . . . ‘ he looks down at his lap. ‘ i put in my application that i don’t want to live through the game. that they can do whatever they want with my character. it might get me a bit further in the process. ‘

 

a blank slate. sure, there were a hundred protag applications or wannabe murderers, and even quite a few who wanted to try their hand at filling the shoes of junko enoshima, but people like kiyo, who were willing to be murderer, victim, suicide, incidental death . . . they were rare opportunities. probably pretty tempting indeed, for the danganronpa case, tenko thinks, and has to admit it’s a pretty smart approach.

 

‘ you’ll probably make it further than me, ‘ she says, crosing her arms and tossing a pebble out over the edge, because she can’t think of anything else to say.

 

‘ we don’t know that, ‘ he says. ‘ maybe we’ll both make it into the game, huh? wouldn’t that be something. ‘

 

‘ as if, ‘ she says with a scoff. ‘ the odds of that would have to be astronomical. ‘

 

‘ no, actually, ‘ he says, lacing his thin fingers together. ‘ they like to have a couple of pre-established relationships in their blank slates. makes the character dynamics more interesting. or something like that. ‘

 

‘ huh, ‘ she says, considering that for a moment. ‘ you think we’d be friends? in the game? ‘

 

kiyo gives her a look, eyes unreadable. she can’t see his mouth, but she imagines his expression from the few times she _has_ seen his face unmasked - mouth pressed into a thin line of unamusement, sharp cheekbones and angles of his face making him look much older than he really was, tension clear in the muscles of his face.

 

he looks away from her, out towards the horizon.

 

her parents were probably waiting for her to come home. his sister might be waiting for him still, even though he’d been going back home less and less often these days - staying with her or with other friends from out of town on the weekends, or sometimes choosing to spend the night in the hospital.

 

‘ are we even friends _now_? ‘ he asks, the words sounding bitter. ‘ we just hang out because people expect us to, after all. ‘

 

‘ i . . . don’t think that’s it, anymore, ‘ tenko says slowly, thinking about it. she thinks about helping kiyo hold back his hair and do his best to make sure he didn’t touch the public toilet seat as he vomited. thinks about how he keeps smuggling her makeup or more effeminate clothes, even though being found with them on his person is as good as a death sentence in their school system, given how intensely he is on the radar anyway. thinks about the times they’ve shared a shitty makeshift meal up here - cold pizza or cafeteria muffins or a two dollar party-size bag of offbrand chips. ‘ i think that . . . i think that’s how it started, yeah. but we’re friends, now. ‘ she shrugs, looks away. ‘ if you want to be, that is. ‘

 

something softens, behind kiyo’s eyes. ‘ i want to be, ‘ he confirms. he lets out a hollow little laugh. ‘ i . . . think we have been for awhile. i just . . . guess i didn’t want to admit it, you know? it feels like it would only make it worse, if i admitted i became friends with the only other gay person in the school system for the one thing we had in common. ‘

 

‘ i know what you mean, ‘ she says, and her mouth tastes bitter. it’s not quite bile, but she’s found regret often tastes much the same. ‘ it took me so long to just . . . figure out i could just be a girl, you know? didn’t feel right that they were calling me names and shit, because i _liked_ girls, but . . . i never liked them like a boy. you know? ‘

 

‘ not particularly, ‘ he says dryly, but tips his head in assent. ‘ i do. not . . . i’m not a girl, but i understand what you mean. ‘

 

‘ if you win, ‘ she starts, and then bites her lip, remembers that he had asked in his application _not_ to win. remembers that the number of times she talks to him from now on might be limited. something about that gnaws at the inside of her ribs. ‘ . . . nevermind, i guess. ‘

 

‘ what about you? ‘ he asks. ‘ if you win? ‘

 

‘ switch schools, ‘ she says immediately. ‘ i think . . . i think i’d want to go to an all-girls’ school. legally change my name. maybe . . . start learning how to play an instrument or something like that. something fuckin’ . . . artsy. no more hallway brawls or wrestling matches. maybe date a musician or something. get a song written about me. ‘

 

‘ i’d listen to that, ‘ he says, and she can tell, even with the mask, he’s smiling, a half-there kind of thing.

 

‘ damn right you would, ‘ she says, crossing her arms. ‘ hell, maybe you will. maybe _i’ll_ get accepted and you’ll just have to stay here and watch every day as i win. you ever think of that? ‘

 

‘ yes, ‘ he says, admits it easily. ‘ i . . . know the feeling. my sister . . . i didn’t know him well, but my sister’s tutor was on 48. we just . . . watched the show every night, almost religiously. he died second round, though. ‘ he looks at her, raises one immaculate eyebrow. ‘ what about you? what’ll you do, if i make it onto the show and you don’t? ‘

 

‘ sulk, ‘ she says, resting her hands on her hips. ‘ . . . i’d watch you, though. maybe even become one of those danganronpa freaks with keychains of my favorite characters. ‘

 

kiyo presses a hand to his heart, feigning a touched expression. ‘ i would be your favorite? ‘

 

‘ behind any cute girls, of course, ‘ she amends, and he shakes his head, clearly amused.

 

they’re companionably silent, the two of them, watching the schoolyard spread out before them, the shadows getting longer before fading altogether into a mass of blue-black as dusk creeps in.

 

‘ i do, ‘ kiyo says, out of nowhere.

 

‘ hm? ‘

 

‘ i do. think we would be friends, in the game, ‘ he elaborates. ‘ _something_ has to stick, right? like . . . we learned about operant conditioning. associating things with one another. there’d have to be some remnant of trust left to associate with a face or something like that, right? maybe that’s why they like having pre-existing relationships in the slates. ‘

 

‘ maybe, ‘ she says, chewing on the inside of her cheek. ‘ i hope we are. ‘


End file.
